


Sex

by Blueismybusiness



Series: Self-Indulgent Smut Series Starring Tsukki [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Because that's my shit, F/M, PWP, Tsukki watches you touch yourself, Unrequited Love/Tsukishima Kei, hot right?, perv, you know you want it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 09:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14422656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueismybusiness/pseuds/Blueismybusiness
Summary: I have gifted this work to Criscura because I can’t figure out any other way to appropriately acknowledge their influence on this work. Criscura has written some of the coolest sex scene in their OPM fic Tumbling Down. I really loved them and incorporated their style in this one. If you like OPM, I seriously suggest checking it out. It’s totally worth it and still ongoing.Inspired by the 1975's 'SEX'. I'm too lazy to post a link, but feel free to listen on repeat. I was craving some Tsukki voyeurism because I love the thought of him watching me. I'm such a thirsty ho.Enjoy, dudes!!





	Sex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [criscura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/criscura/gifts).



Tsukishima walks through the front doorway. Outside it is cold as balls, snowing with a windchill of 19 degrees. The temperature had dropped significantly in the five hours he’d been at work that evening. 

Inside his apartment, though, is toasty warm. The blessed heat hitting him like a wall as soon as he opens his front door, and he nearly cries with relief, his frozen fingers dropping his satchel beneath the coat hooks. He doesn’t cry however, he only sighs in bliss as he strips off his scarf and gloves and stuffs them in his coat pocket before pulling it off and hanging it on an empty hook. He looks around as he does these things, the four room apartment silent at nearly 9:30 in the evening. 

All the lights are off except a small lamp on a table under the far window. He glances down, looking to see if his spunky roommate has arrived before him.

Your shoes are tucked haphazardly beside his bag where he’d dropped it when he came in. He can’t help the smile that lightly touches his lips when he sees them. Since you are not out in the living room obsessively binging one of your many favorite Netflix programs, he figures you must be hidden away in your room studying or something. Most likely scrolling through Tumblr instead of doing your work like you should be.

After stepping out of his own shoes (and placing them next to yours in a more orderly fashion), he makes his way into the kitchen and opens the fridge catching the image of you two clowning around in a picture taken a few months before. The photo is attached to the freezer with the ugliest magnate ever, and in a rare show of spontaneity, you had somehow managed to capture him forever making the most ridiculous face with you. 

He loves it. Not the fact that he looks like a dumbass, he could actually do without that part. No, he loves the fact that you can bring out that side of him. A side that he doesn’t show too many people—none, actually. 

Is he in love with you? Maybe. 

It was inevitable. From the first time he met you until now, he has always been on a path that would eventually leave him an emotional, sappy mess of feelings, and it’s all your fault.

In his weaker moments, he curses everyone he knows for playing a part in his downfall.

He curses his roommate in the dorms his first year for being a creepy, annoying bastard. He curses his friends for already having roommates and no room for him. He curses Hinata for sending him your info when he’d been ready to give up his search for an apartment and a decent housemate. Mostly he curses you. 

The second you opened the door in all your hot mess glory; those tiny fucking shorts and the frizzy hair that was falling out of the bun you slapped together, he was fucked. He was straight up, no holds barred fucked. 

And why? Well, beyond the fact that you’re sexy as hell even in your worst moments, you’re also incredibly intelligent, even more of an asshole than he is, and you make him laugh. And not because you’ve done something ridiculously stupid. Okay, not always because you do dumb shit. But mostly because you’re genuinely funny and sarcastic.

It took all of five minutes that first day to figure out he wanted to share an apartment with you, even if he tried to convince himself that this was nothing more than business. 

A year later and he can’t come to completely regret his decision. He’s never had more fun and felt more alive around another human being.

However, he’s also never been more heartbroken. 

He tears his eyes away from the picture, his mind snapping from his thoughts of you like a rubber band, and he snatches a bottle of water from the fridge. He avoids looking at the photo again as he closes the refrigerator door and turns toward his bedroom. As much as he loves the picture, it’s also a reminder of his place in your life. That place being nothing more than your friend. 

As he moseys through the quiet apartment there are plenty of mementos of your boyfriend lying about. A track jacket with the logo of the university he plays for (a rival team), a spare controller for the game system you have, a textbook he must have forgot since the last time he was here. Tsukishima’s sure it’s not yours, and he grimaces because he pays so much attention to you that he knows these things.

It’s not like your boyfriend is a bad dude. Terushima’s annoying, and he can’t understand what you really see in him, but the guy’s nice enough. It’s just that he thinks you could do so much better. Not that he’s saying  _ he’s  _ better, though he wouldn’t hesitate a second if you showed the slightest interest.

He enters his room, flipping on the light, then cursing cause he’d left his book bag by the front door. Oh well, he wants to take a quick shower and warm up. He’ll deal with grabbing the bag later. 

Anyway, Tersuhima’s a little immature in his opinion. Not that it matters. Still, you’re more together than that guy, so what is so interesting about the pierced, wanna-be delinquent? Holes in your face are  _ not  _ that cool, okay?

He rummages around in his room, emptying the pockets of his jeans and grabbing some clothes and his towel, then heading out into the hall again.

Is it the sex? Is Terushima Yuji some sort of god in the sack? That has to be it. Yeah, he’s smart, but he’s also a jackass. Maybe it’s the tongue ring. Maybe he should get a tongue ring...

He opens the door to the bathroom and slips inside, seeking the light switch and hears the music. He gazes through the dim light and sees the light from your bedroom door which is slightly ajar. Your bedroom connects to the bathroom, a fact he’s always been a bit jealous about. He’s tried to convince you to switch with him on occasion, but you refuse to budge. He supposes being a girl it will always be a losing battle, but he won’t give up. It would be so much more convenient.

He grins, stepping fully into the bathroom without turning on the light, intent on slinging open your door in hopes he’ll scare the shit out of you and give him something to laugh about. He needs it with all of the depressing thoughts about you and your boyfriend.

The bathroom smells like you, damp and heat still clinging to the air. You must have gotten out of the shower not long before he got home. The scent of vanilla and hibiscus never failing to elicit a physical reaction from him. He loves the way you smell, so fresh and female. 

He inches closer to the door as quietly as he can, a low, breathless sigh issuing from the crack between your door and the frame. ‘Sex’ begins playing on your Bluetooth speaker, a song from your favorite British pop band, and it’s oddly relevant when he finally stops before your door. Just before he pushes it open, a very specific sound makes its way to his ears and he freezes, his muscles seizing up, one hand lifted and just brushing the wood.

That sound is unmistakable. 

Your breath hitches, the sound of it almost overwhelmed by the music, but you might as well have held a bullhorn to your mouth. It’s followed by another breathy moan and he feels his body warm, flushing not just from the embarrassment of catching you like this, but also from the arousal that works its way down his spine and waking up his cock.

So, the thing about living platonically with the opposite sex is how careful everyone has to be. But it’s not like accidents never happen. He lost count of the amount of times you both have caught each other in various forms of nudity. To be honest, it’s those moments that give him life...and have provided some of his better self-induced orgasms.

Still, after a little over a year of living together, you had yet to catch each other in the act of... _ that _ .

He’s loathe to admit it, but he’s fantasized about this. He wonders what you look like. How you touch yourself. What you  _ sound  _ like…

“Ohhh...unh…”

Okay. Okay, you sound like that.

He’s still standing there, rooted to the linoleum, and warring with his conscience. Logically he knows that staying and listening is creepy and perverted and the last thing he should do. If you catch him, he won’t only just lose his home, he will probably lose his friend, and you’re really important to him.

“Ohhgoood…”

...But every sound you make shoots straight to his dick, and you sound so wonderfully sexy…

“Fuuck!”

Shit. 

He worries his bottom lip, truly struggling between right and wrong. 

So, pros and cons about staying…

“Ungh…” 

He swallows, he definitely heard something slick and wet.

Okay, pros:

  1. You’re fucking masturbating less than a hundred feet from him.
  2. You sound even better than every wet dream he’s ever had about you.
  3. This could provide him with enough jack off material for the rest of his life.
  4. Is it less weird if he just listens and keeps his hand off his dick?



“Hmmm...ahhh…”

     5. Maybe.

“Nghyeah...right there…” 

Oh god, more wet noises. Okay, okay cons...

  1. You bust him creeping on you like a dirty old man.



“Ohhh…yeees…”

What did you just do? NO! Concentrate!

  1. You…



“Ahh, yeah…Yeah…”

     2. You get pi…

“Hah...neeah...need you…”

     2. Yo…

“Tsukki…”

His brain shuts down and he drops the bundle of clothes to the floor. Did he...did he just hear his name?!

He strains, fighting to hear you over the blood that suddenly rushes to his ears, the pounding of his heart, at the very thought—hope—that you are getting off thinking of him.

Has he fantasized about this? Well, yeah, fuck yeah. The thought of your voice moaning his name? It’s always been while you were riding his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, but that’s all it’s ever been. Just a fantasy. Since you were with Terushima, he’d always assumed that guy would be the center of your thoughts.

This. This was almost more than his poor brain could process. He focused, praying he’d hear it again if only to confirm he wasn’t fucking dreaming. 

Unconsciously he leans forward and inadvertently touches the door causing it to push open a bit more. His eyes zero in on you, and all at once his blood rushes to his face, then sinks so quickly to his dick he has to grab the door frame to keep from falling over into your room and surprising you.

He’s never seen a sight quite like you spread out on your bed. You’re on your back, propped up on an elbow, with one leg bent at the knee and the other foot planted in the carpet. He doesn’t know what providence above made you choose to face the bathroom, but he’s thanking every god he knows that you are. He has to bite down on his other hand to stifle the moan that wants to escape as his eye roam over your naked body. Your legs are completely spread, and you’ve got one hand between them. Your breasts bounce lightly as you rock your hips riding your fingers…

No,  _ not  _ your fingers. The lamp beside your bed is on, casting shadows over you and he almost missed the way your slender fingers wrap around it. 

_ Oh fuck! _

Your not fucking it hard, your hand moving in lazy strokes, and the slurping sound it causes it positively  _ lewd. _

He really needs leave. He knows this. Listening to you was one thing, but seeing it.

This is wrong…

“Mmmm…” 

He watches you bite your lip, your eyes closed and face scrunched in concentrated pleasure. You lick your lips and he follows your example, imagining the the feel of your lips on his and the taste of your tongue in his mouth.

Suddenly you slide the object of your pleasure out. He has to grin at your taste, it’s roughly six and a half inches and kinda thick. He can’t help but smugly compare himself to your replica of a dick and wonder if he could give you more pleasure. However all thoughts halt as you bring the silicone to your lips, your tongue darting out to flick at the head before you open wide and take a good portion down your throat.

If there was any rationality in Tsukishima’s head, it’s totally gone now as he watches you suck your slick of the imposter. It’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and he’s so  _ fucking  _ hard, his entire lower body aches. 

You hum as you pretend to give a blowjob, and the rapturous expression on your face would almost convince anyone that you had a real dick in your mouth. He can’t help but imagine what it might be like to be in the place of that fake ass piece of plastic. Images of you on your knees, his cock shoved down your throat as he fucks your face swamp his already overtaxed brain. He barely registers that he’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you suck like your life depends on it while rutting uselessly into the air.

His eyes fall between your legs, the light bouncing off your wet pussy, making his mouth water. He licks his lips again, but only because he’s drooling at the thought of licking your slick cunt. The thought makes his body burn like he’s standing in the middle of an inferno, and he might as well be because he doesn’t think you have ever been hotter.

You lie back against the bed, and the curves and dips of your supple form is laid out for him like the finest dessert. He can’t see your face, but he can still see you taking that fake cock like a champ. Your pistoning the fake, pink flesh almost roughly, your moans getting louder. Then he watches as your free hand slides over your chest as you grasp one of your breasts, kneading it like dough. He’s so jealous of your hand, the way you massage the plush flesh, pinching and rolling your nipple in your hand. He wants to touch you so bad he can almost feel you. It’s like phantom impressions even though he’s never laid a hand on you in that capacity before. But you look so smooth...so  _ soft _ and  _ warm _ … and he wants to be the one to make you feel  _ so good _ .

Your hand finally leaves your tit and glides down, over your smooth stomach, to graze over the trimmed bit of hair that decorates your pussy. Your fingers tickle at your clit, rubbing in circles without pressing hard. You arch into the feeling as your other hand continues to fuck your mouth with the dildo and your muffled moans grow in number.

He watches, still hidden by the door as you push further downward, your first and second fingers breaching your opening. His cock strains against his jeans as he grips what he can, stroking slowly in time to your fingers. He has to actively work at not making any noise, the last thing he wants is to notify you of his presence. He’s too far gone to care if you get angry or not, he just doesn’t want you to stop. He swears he could stand in this spot until forever just watching you get yourself off.

Your fingers are really moving now, in and out, in and out. Your moaning almost continuously around the dildo in your mouth. Every so often you pull it out to lick at it, curling your tongue around the shaft and tip. The position your in is interesting, he can see your chin and tongue when you stick it out, and it’s driving him crazy.

Your hips cant against your fingers, the muscles in your thighs flexing. He thinks you’re so beautiful. He hates that Terushima is the only one who gets to see you like this. You’re a work of art, your sex appeal on a normal day enough to steal his breath, but this is almost divine. 

He wants you. He needs you. His body burns to be close, to feel your naked skin move against his, slick with sweat and sex, and his desire for you is nearly blinding him. He wants to taste you, to lick the drops of sweat from your neck, the slick juice from your thighs, to sink his tongue deep into your soaked core and make you scream with uninhibited pleasure.

He moves his fingers faster, the stiff fabric of his jeans making them sore. It’s not enough, it’ll never be enough until he can put his hands on you.

Suddenly you slow your movements and stop, and he freezes, afraid he might have done something to alert you to his presence. But all you do is sigh, pulling the dildo from your mouth and your fingers from your soaked vagina. 

Instead, you pull your leg up off the floor and roll onto your side, resting on an elbow. Both legs are bent, though one knee is still in the air. He watches curiously, wondering what you plan to do next. 

You still have ahold of the dildo and you reach behind yourself, slipping it back in from behind. His eyes widen. Fascinating.

You start pumping it in and out, grinding your hips back against it.

“Yes...godyes...Tsukki don’t stop…”

The entire world stops as your words sink in. You just called out his name and he heard it clear as day. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

His face flushes so red he can feel the heat of it, and his mouth goes dry. For a brief second he thinks about answering you. He thinks about slinging the door open and stalking across the room to your bed to rip that imitation right out of you and give you the real thing. 

“Tsukki, Tsukki...Yeah, fuck...so good…”

You thrust harder now, your bed making little squeaking sounds as you stress the springs with your movements. 

You’re calling out to him and it’s taking everything he has to restrain himself. Despite the evidence, he’s pretty sure you would be freaked out if he suddenly appeared at your bedside in this moment. At least he’s mostly sure, his brain is a little fuzzy and it’s hard to think past the constant, ‘Go fuck her’s’ and ‘Fucking take her’s’ that his brain is screaming at him.

God he wants to kiss you right now. He wants to claim your mouth, to map and memorize every centimeter of it with his tongue. He wants to mark up your perfect skin, and let everyone know he did it to you. 

He knows he’s not your boyfriend, but if you really wanted Terushima would you be calling his name right now. Could he fill your boyfriend’s shoes or surpass him in making you feel like you’ve reached heaven?

“Tsukki, fuck I want you. I want you so bad…”

Yeah, he can. But he won’t. Not now. He can bide his time now that he knows how you really feel. If you want him like this, then maybe you want him as more. Maybe you love him the way he loves you.

“Tsukki!”

Your head is thrown back as you buck unevenly against the dildo, your hand quickly thrusting inside you. You look so good, so absolutely wondrous. 

He’s come this far. Ha! Pun intended!

His fingers fumble with his button before popping it open and unzipping his jeans as quietly as possible. He shoves his pants down enough to free his cock and he immediately wraps his long fingers around it. He’s already slick, having soaked himself with precum. The glide of his hand is smooth as he smears even more of the clear fluid along his shaft. He’s hard as a rock and heavy in his hand, the heat of his arousal warming the precum. He strokes himself in time with your thrusts determined to get off with you. He’s really close already from teasing himself all this time, and the way your hips are stuttering, he’s pretty sure you are too.

He thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit and tightening the grip so he’s fucking between his thumb and forefinger. He imagines crawling between your open legs while he watches you climb higher toward your climax. He thinks about sliding his hands over your silky thighs, spreading them wider to accommodate his hips. He envisions slipping a couple of fingers inside you, just to feel how ready you’ve made yourself for him. He thinks about the way you’d look at him, eyes hooded and dark with animal hunger. He sees himself smirking over you as he lines himself up and pushes inside, watching as you arch your back because he feels so much better than a fake dick. He imagines the tight, wet heat of your pussy folding around his cock like he was always meant to be inside you.

He bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes blood, but he can’t let you hear.

“Oh yes, baby! Like that! C’mon Tsukki, fuck me, baby!”

Oh god, he wants to be in you so  _ fucking bad _ ! His hand isn’t enough, he wants to feel you…

You’d be so tight...so hot and slick...it’s so good and you’re so beautiful…he’s so hard inside you…

You’re fucked out on him...your legs gripping his waist like a vice...pulling him deeper…

You’re begging him to go harder...he’s gripping your hips and slamming into you with everything he has...you’re screaming his name...he’s...he’s gonna cum...you feel so good...so good…

“FUCK KEI!”

He opens his eyes never noticing he’d closed them, just in time to catch the way your body stiffens as you fuck yourself through your orgasm, your face pinched in blissful gratification.

He’s coming too, his eyes locked on you as he thrusts up into his hand, spilling over his fingers. He covers his mouth with his other hand, breathing hard through his nose. His orgasm rips through him like a tsunami, getting off with you effectually the most intense thing he’s ever experienced. 

Eventually he begins to come down, the reality of what he’s done sinking in like a stone in water. 

He’s sick.

He’s the worst.

Your leg falls, muscles relaxing as you, too, return from your high. You slip the dildo from your body and toss it to the bed. Your chest rises and falls with the deep breaths your taking.

His heart is breaking. With the discovery of your own attraction to him comes the realization that whatever you could have had together has been forever ruined by this one mistake. If you ever found out what he’s done, you’d never want him. 

He looks down at his hand as he pulls his pants up with the other, the opaque stickiness mocking him as it clings to his fingers. His eyes catch the door in front of him, he sees evidence there of his indiscretion. He kinda wants to throw up.

He looks up automatically when he hears you ruffle your bed sheets, and he dies on the inside. He hadn’t even noticed the door had opened.

You’re staring right at him from your bed.

No! Nononononono! Please no!

“Enjoy the show, Tsukki?” 

He can’t tell if your angry, you’re as good as he is at hiding your true feelings, and your face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. Usually his would mirror yours, but at this moment, he’s pretty sure every emotion he’s feeling is as evident on his face as is the truth of what he’s done.

“[Name],” It’s all he can think to say.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I know hetero fics aren't as popular as agy boys getting it on, but I hope you enjoy. Please, PLEASE leave comments and kudos if you did. I really appreciate your feedback and encouragement, and you will never waste my time or sound dumb to me. I read every one you send and reply. 
> 
> BIMB :)


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